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If the sex offender system wasn’t geared for such secrecy, a few online searches could have saved three little girls from a lifetime of trauma and pain.
Sean Westgarth had been a registered sex offender for 13 years when he managed to trick his new neighbours into believing he was a trustworthy guardian, someone who could keep an eye on the local kids when their parents were busy.
No one had a clue that the 38-year-old had multiple convictions for sexual penetration of a child and possession of child abuse material – offences deemed so serious that Westgarth was listed for life on the sex offenders register.
But Westgarth the paedophile did not exist as far as the public was concerned.
By law, the official Victoria Police-run sex offenders register is inaccessible to anyone but authorised personnel, the information protected to help the rehabilitation prospects of its members and to prevent vigilantism.
A Google search wouldn’t have turned up information about Westgarth’s dark past either, and even public court records would have shown no history of offending.
The County Court judge who sentenced Westgarth in 2009 for the crimes that put him on the register chose not to publish the record of his conviction.
This helped Westgarth pose effortlessly as the helpful neighbour, a father himself who “seemed really nice” and could be counted on to watch the local kids.
Westgarth used that access to abuse a one-year-old, a seven-year-old and a 12-year-old with an intellectual disability over a nearly two-year period, much of which he documented on video in horrific detail.
It’s a scenario that has played out multiple times in Victoria’s justice system, the consequences of the risk posed – and damage done – by known sex offenders living ‘quietly’ in the community.
Manipulating the cloak of secrecy granted by the Sex Offenders Registration Act – and its interpretation by judges, police and justice agencies – predators have quietly infiltrated local communities, businesses and the gig economy to find new victims who have little or no chance of discovering who exactly is in their midst until it’s too late.
Secret by nature
Apart from underworld figures who turn informer, there is no class of criminal whose identity is more closely guarded by the justice system than sex offenders.
Criminal court judgments are routinely published on a free online legal database, run by the Australasian Legal Information Institute, a clearing house where the public and legal community are kept informed about the critical work of the courts.
But in Victoria’s court system, judges have complete discretion on whether to publish a sentence imposed on someone convicted of a sex crime or to issue an order concealing their true identity behind a pseudonym.
An Age analysis of hundreds of sex offender prosecutions from 2020 to 2026 has shown it is a system that has allowed known dangerous predators to slip through the fingers of authorities to commit horrific new crimes and left the public almost completely in the dark about its failings.
Of the 84 registered sex offenders whom The Age has identified being sentenced for further serious sex crimes between 2020 and 2026, just 13 per cent were named after their original offending.
Even after registered offenders are caught offending against children and the vulnerable again, judges have chosen to continue to preserve their anonymity in 20 per cent of cases — including for some predators who have violated their monitoring conditions multiple times.
Some offenders are kept anonymous to protect the identity of their victims. Most often, however, sex offenders are allowed a cloak of secrecy in their own interests and the interests of public safety to encourage their rehabilitation.
Justin Wright-Smith was a child sex offender who was able to get a job as a delivery driver and kitchen hand for a regional pizza shop in 2023 without anyone knowing his history.
His job didn’t require a Working with Children Check and Wright-Smith never declared the job to police running the registry or told his new boss about his history.
It enabled him access to two underage girls, also working in the shop, for three months before he was caught abusing one of them.
Wright-Smith’s original 2019 conviction was never published by the judge overseeing his case, and there was no online media coverage of his crimes.
Even when, shortly afterwards, he was convicted of failing to comply with his reporting obligations on four other occasions, his courtroom appearances were never publicly disclosed.
In 2023, the 35-year-old initiated sexual contact with a 17-year-old girl at the shop, and then used the excuse of offering a lift home to begin grooming her 15-year-old sister. The abuse went on for two months, including recording the acts.
It was only after this conviction that Wright-Smith’s name appeared on the public record.
“Your conduct must be appropriately denounced and you must be justly punished,” County Court Judge Pardeep Tiwana said. He was given six years and nine months’ jail, eligible for parole after four years and four months.
Rehabilitation vs public safety
When the Sex Offenders Registration Act (SORA) was passed in 2004, its dominant purpose was to reduce the likelihood that known or high-risk sex predators would reoffend, and in particular to protect children from harm.
While the objective of “rehabilitation” is noted in one passing reference in the SORA, the justice system has interpreted protecting the privacy of sex offenders as critical to their rehabilitation and therefore ensuring the protection of the public.
In many sexual recidivism profiles tendered to the courts, clinical “triggers” for reoffending include severe feelings of isolation, loneliness, abandonment and societal rejection – exactly what experts fear will occur through public exposure.
Forensic psychiatrist Rajan Darjee, who specialises in assessing and treating sex offenders, said there was a critical public safety issue at play, regardless of how the secrecy might look.
“On the one hand we all want open justice –that’s a clear principle of law. But on the other hand, shaming people makes them more likely to recidivate. We know this,” Darjee told The Age.
“If an offender’s name is published, you’re going to make his life worse, you’re going to make it more difficult to manage him, and you’re going to make him more likely to commit an offence. The whole point of the legislation is to reduce risk, so why would you want to do something that’s going to increase the risk?”
It’s a concept the layperson may struggle with when hearing about the appalling case files, but the principle has significant traction with judges.
Brian* had multiple convictions for possessing child abuse material over a four-year period and violating his reporting conditions. As a result, he was issued with a special “prohibition order” which banned him from possessing any internet-capable devices or accessing social media.
Less than a year later, Brian escalated to active grooming of a pre-teen girl online, sending pictures of his genitalia and engaging in extreme chats.
At his most recent hearing on this latest spate of crimes, County Court Judge Daniel Holding issued a blanket suppression order over his name, stating it was necessary: “To protect the safety of [Brian]. Further, the efforts to protect the community by engaging [Brian] in various treatment programs related to integration within the community may be undermined should there be publicity which in my view is likely to adversely affect his mental health.”
But some judges have decided, in specific cases, that public disclosure is absolutely necessary.
In February, County Court Judge Val Gostencnik chose to allow the identity of serial child sex offender Bryce Robinson to be published because of the seriousness of the risk he posed to the public and despite the potential for public vigilantism.
Robinson had been the subject of a special supervision order in a bid to control his escalating risk to the public – which had repeatedly failed.
“The [Department of Justice] submitted that [Robinson’s] non-compliance indicates that a suppression order ought not be made because knowledge of the respondent’s identity will allow the community to be better protected from a non-compliant offender,” Gostencnik said.
“I consider that both the respondent’s lack of compliance with the existing supervision order and the question of the protection of children, families and the community in the circumstances weigh against making the orders sought.”
Melbourne Law School associate professor Jason Bosland, who is an expert on transparency in the legal system, said judges should provide reasons for the decisions they hand down and all should be publicly available.
“Persistent non-publication of judgments is a breach of the common law principle of open justice and is completely wrong. This system needs to be open, so the public can see it working and that it is working.”
‘Wanted’, but not well-informed
The sex offenders register itself is an information ‘black box’ — accessible only by authorised personnel in Victoria Police and other justice agencies.
Even basic information about the success – or failure – of its operation is virtually non-existent.
Each year, Victoria Police only publishes a single information graphic in its annual report detailing basic information about the number of people on the register, how many were added that year, for how long, and their gender.
Victoria Police does not include the number of breaches that have occurred or the recidivism rate.
Any information about the operation of the register is also exempt from public disclosure under freedom-of-information laws.
Oversight of Victoria Police’s work is limited to the Independent Broad-based Anti-corruption Commission ensuring the information on the register is handled correctly.
Two police sources, not authorised to speak publicly, have expressed deep frustration at the limitations on public disclosure.
When a registered sex offender goes on the run, Victoria Police are only allowed to release basic information about that person: their name, a photograph, the fact they are a registered sex offender, any identifying marks, the suburb where they were last seen, and suburbs or towns they were previously known to frequent.
There is no warning given about the risk the person might pose or a description of their past crimes.
The Age has identified at least 20 registered sex offenders who have absconded and been the subject of special alerts since 2020.
When an offender is found, the police erase the public alert and then advise any media that any published information “must now be removed as soon as practicable”.
In November 2024, notorious predator Theo Briggs, who was both a registered sex offender and subject to a special government “supervision order”, disappeared from a rehab centre in the inner suburbs of Melbourne.
After two days, Victoria Police announced that he had been “located [and] … arrested on Alma Street in St Kilda”.
What was not disclosed was that Briggs had gone on a 48-hour rampage that included two home invasions, kidnapping a ride-share driver at knifepoint, and the abduction and assault of a woman in a park, which was only stopped by the intervention of a passing good Samaritan.
Publishing that information was only permitted after The Age succeeded in a landmark application to the County Court.
This legislative stranglehold on information even comes into play when Victoria Police are dealing with past victims of registered offenders.
It was only in December 2025 that police were given the power to inform victims of moves by their abusers to seek suspension of their reporting obligations or an attempt to legally change their name.
That change came about as a result of regular dialogue between Victoria Police and the state government about how the legislation can be improved. The SORA has been modified more than 60 times to tighten up its effectiveness and, in some cases, improve disclosure.
“We’ve recently put material on our internet page providing victims an opportunity to provide a preference to Victoria Police for contact by the registry about applications offenders make,” said Detective Inspector Carla McIntyre, the officer in charge of the sex offenders registration program.
“It’s a really fine balance … we don’t want to re-traumatise victims by contacting them many years later, so understanding their preference will support us in determining whether to speak to a victim.”
Victoria Police declined to comment on how else the legislation might be improved, saying that was a matter for government.
The state government declined to comment on whether it had any plans to revamp the sex offenders register.
“We will always stand with victim-survivors, and we will always hold offenders to account,” a spokesperson said.
“We have some of Australia’s toughest laws to monitor sexual offenders after they leave prison. This includes strict reporting obligations, intensive supervision and serious penalties.”
As for Westgarth, his crimes remain unknown beyond his victims and family, even today.
He was sentenced in the County Court earlier this year to 17 years and 10 months in prison, with a non-parole period of 13 years.
While he appeared in court under his own name and there was no suppression order, Judge Simon Moglia chose to publish the sentence under the pseudonym “Sean Westgarth”.
No explanation was given. Westgarth is eligible to be released in 2036 at the earliest.
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